


To Return to Your Roots

by AbyssWalk3r



Category: Fallout: New Vegas, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: AU, Multi, Way too many people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:33:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28699968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbyssWalk3r/pseuds/AbyssWalk3r
Summary: Grima is slain, and Robin has returned from her feared death at long last. Peace fills the world as it tries to rebuild after Grima's resurrection and from ceaseless wars, but that peace doesn't last long for Robin. A mysterious letter arrives for her one day, from a man claiming to have known her before she met Chrom in Southtown years before. He offers her answers about her past, but only if she comes to a place she once called home, in the ruins of a place called the Thabes Labyrinth.With no other recourse, Robin and those willing to follow her gird themselves to delve into the depths of history, seeking answers that Robin isn't entirely sure that she wants.
Relationships: Chrom/Sumia (Fire Emblem), Degel | Kjelle/Gerome, Denis | Donnel/My Unit | Reflet | Robin, Henry/Sallya | Tharja, Lon'qu/Velvet | Panne, Loran | Laurent/Noire, Marc | Morgan/Nn | Nah, Miriel/Riviera | Libra
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. A Message From the Past

**Author's Note:**

> This story is heavily inspired by Fallout: New Vegas's Lonesome Road DLC , which is the only reason why I tagged New Vegas. The OC is inspired by Ulysses, also why I tagged him even though no Fallout characters are actually in the story. I am not fully familiar with the original story of the Thabes Labyrinth (only know it somewhat from Shadow Dragon, which I never played, and from Echoes, which is mainly what I'm going off of) so forgive me if I err in describing it or its history.

Just another long day of work, and Robin exhaled a gust of hot air out of her nostrils as she finished signing this last report. 

“And, done!” she sighed, placing her quill back into its inkwell and leaning back into her chair. “Naga, why did I agree to this suffering?” 

She hadn’t missed that much of these reports, requests, and otherwise were supposed to be Chrom’s problems, but that didn’t stop him from shoving them off onto her. 

Robin sighed again, shaking her head as she pushed the chair back and got to her feet, stiff muscles protesting after hours of being locked into a sitting position. “The things I do for my best friend...” 

Her office was a simple one: a rectangle of white brick and polished hardwood floor with an arched ceiling from which an Ylissean banner hung in graceful silence. A conical window let in light from the left, and there was a comfortable couch in front of her desk for when she got tired of sitting in her chair or if she was hosting a guest or two. 

The rest of the space was filled with bookshelves and cabinets, all of which were cluttered with her paperwork or a library’s worth of books that she’d collected from all over the world during their journeys. Well, Robin frowned at the thought, more so campaigns rather than journeys, but at least the wars were over with. 

She looked down at her right hand, marveling at the unmarked flesh as she allowed a moment of guilt to burn her throat. It had almost been a year since Grima was dead, since she had disappeared after dealing the final blow, only to reappear five months later. Naga had been right: the strength of her bonds with the Shepherds had allowed her soul to overpower Grima’s, allowing her to survive what should have been their combined demise. 

It hadn’t been a pleasant experience, however, being dead. Grima had howled, screamed, and raged in that darkness that they had shared, tearing into Robin without cease. Until she’d finally managed to gather her strength, raising her hand and striking the Fell Dragon’s avatar hard enough to send the creature shrieking into the void. She’d woken up in the field afterwards, with Lissa and Chrom standing over her for a second time. 

Robin looked out the paned glass window, blinking through the midday sunlight streaming into the narrow courtyard her office overlooked. A few pages were scurrying through the corridors bordering the courtyard while a small squadron of knights in plate mail were going through their daily drills on the grass. 

Two familiar figures, one in bright red armor and one in deep green, were standing at the head of the knights, the crimson knight barking commands while her verdant companion offered more controlled suggestions rather than sharp orders. 

Robin couldn’t stop herself from smiling at her two friends: Sully and Stahl complimented each other well, and the next generation of knights were receiving instruction from two of the Shepherd’s best fighters. 

“Hmm, Donnel isn’t there today,” she noted her husband’s absence, then remembered. “Ah, that’s right! He was taking some scouts on a training exercise in the mountains. He said he wouldn’t be back for a few days...” 

Oh, her reunion with her beloved had been the best part of coming back to life, second only to seeing her son and the rest of her friends. Come to think of it, where was Morgan today? He’d been taking up more and more administrative duties for the capital, but mostly he served as her assistant when he had time for it. 

As of right now, she and her son were helping keep Ylisstol’s paperwork in order and keeping Chrom sane even if it was at the cost of their own sanity. 

“The things I do for my best friend,” Robin lamented again, jumping as a rapt knock came from her door. “Who is it?” 

“It’s me,” Tharja’s voice purred from the other side. “I need to talk.” 

Robin sighed inwardly. “It’s open, Tharja!” 

Who did you curse this time? 

The door creaked open to admit the scantily clad dark mage, her pale face set into her trademark scowl as she shut the door behind her before slumping onto the couch. 

“So, what happened?” Robin sat down next to her friend, wishing she had tea or coffee to offer her. “Did you hex one of the nobles again?” 

Tharja scoffed and rolled her eyes. “No. I just wanted to ask if you would approve of Henry and I opening a shop in town.” 

“A shop?” Robin frowned as the necessary permits and permissions rattled through her mind’s eye. “That’s surprising! I didn’t think you and Henry were going to stay here, let alone start a business.” 

“Well, we’ve been talking,” Tharja said with a vague wave of her hand. “And we both decided that we like this place more than Plegia, or what’s left of it.” 

Robin couldn’t hide her flinch at that, even when Tharja’s face softened in a way it only seemed to when it was just the two of them. “Right...” 

Plegia, or the wasteland that Plegia had become, had been devastated by Grima’s awakening and the Grimleal’s rise to power under Validar. Their already dwindling population had been wiped out further by the sacrificial rite of the Dragon’s Table, where thousands upon thousands had been devoured by Grima in order to resurrect his body and full power. 

After Grima’s death, the few surviving Grimleal had brutalized the remaining Plegian villages and towns in an attempt to rally support for their dead cause, prompting Chrom and Flavia to launch a joint Feroxi-Ylissean effort to wipe out what was left of the dark cult before they could do anything else. 

As of now, Plegia was a vassal state of Ylisse and the target of much relief work, spearheaded by none other than Maribelle and her husband, Frederick. All that remained of the once proud desert nation was a few scattered hamlets and villages that were loosely affiliated by a council of hastily elected officials. 

Their capital had become a ghost town, the bustling streets and its palace almost devoid of all life save for a few roving bands of street urchins and pockets of scavengers who remained in the wreckage, trying to sift through what was left. 

None of the surviving Plegian councilors wanted to go near the place, even if it was where most of what was left of Plegia’s wealth was stored in their vaults, and Robin didn’t blame them, not after so many people had been sacrificed to the Grimleal’s god. A god whose skeletal effigy towered over the city while Grimleal banners and altars filled the streets, leaving a stark reminder of the cause of this near-genocide. 

“It wasn’t your fault, Robin,” Tharja said softly, her discomfort at this attempt at being tender plain on her face. 

At least she was getting better at it, even if she did love hexing people and her husband was gathering feathers from every crow he could find in an attempt to fly. 

“I know, I know, but part of me can’t help but feel responsible for what happened, since I was created to be Grima...and it was my future counterpart who killed all those people,” Robin sighed and shook her head. “It’s no wonder a lot of the Plegian survivors dislike me so much.” 

Tharja pushed herself to stand, making Robin look up at her. “Come on. Let’s walk, I guess.” 

“Yeah, I could use the distraction, especially since I finished up early,” Robin nodded, rising up next to her friend. “Thanks, Tharja. You’re a good friend.” 

Tharja gave her a small smile, one free of her usual snippy comments or sardonic quips. “Well, you’re my friend.” 

She’s come a long way! Robin couldn’t help but smile as the two women left the room and shut the door behind them. 

“So, what made you want to start a shop in Ylisstol?” Robin asked as the duo started down one of the hallways serving as the veins to Castle Ylisstol’s massive citadel body. 

A few members of the castle staff, maids and other servants, were hurrying about here and there as the women walked, some calling out greetings to Robin as they passed. 

“Necessity, I suppose,” Tharja answered after a few moments. “And if I could sell talismans with helpful hexes on them, maybe that will help set us up for when we have Noire.” 

“How is Noire, by the way?” 

Tharja shrugged. “Don’t know. It’s been a few weeks since I last heard from her or Laurent.” 

Right, those two were travelling all over the world, seeing how they could help or what research they could do. 

“I was hoping you’d gotten word from them recently,” Robin paused as the grand doors to the throne room came into view. “Oh, shoot! I forgot the reports I was going to give to Chrom!” 

“Oh, Grandmaster Robin!” one of the royal guards strode forward, a look of relief on his face. “I was hoping I’d see you!” 

That couldn’t be good news...Robin steeled herself as she nodded to the man. “Well, I’m here now. What happened?” 

“A courier showed up with a letter for you, but he’s insisting that he has to deliver it personally to you,” the guard explained, the Brand emblazoned on his bright blue tabard. “We brought him to Lord Chrom, thinking that you’d be there, but...” 

“A courier? Did he say who this letter was from?” Robin could hear voices from the throne room. 

“He says the client never gave him his name, but he said that he was an old friend of yours,” the words made Robin’s heart skip a beat. 

“Old friend?” she repeated, her gaze shifting to the grand doors. 

The guard nodded. “Said he knew you before you joined the Shepherds.” 

Her heart skipped another beat as her breath caught in her throat. “W-what?” 

She pushed past the guard quickly, shoving the grand doors open and almost dashing into the towering throne room that served as the heart to the Ylissean royalty. Lines of banners hung from the vaulted ceilings, and lines of windows let in beams of sunlight to make the place seem even more vibrant and welcoming. 

Royal guards held their heavy spears and shields at attention, a few of them nodding to Robin as she hurried towards the dais holding the throne, where she could see Chrom and Sumia and a third figure she didn’t recognize. 

“I’m just saying, we can give Robin the letter, no problem,” Chrom was saying, not noticing Robin as she surged forward. “I don’t see why it’s such an issue.” 

“With all due respect, Your Exalted, I keep explaining that this letter needs to be personally delivered to Grandmaster Robin, herself! I cannot give it to anyone else!” 

Sumia, dressed in an elegant white and pale green dress befitting the Queen of Ylisse, nudged her husband’s side with her elbow, the movement making the thin gold tiara resting atop her head glitter in the sunlight. 

“Hmm?” Chrom paused, then his face brightened when he saw Robin. “Oh, Robin! We were just talking about you!” 

The third figure, dressed in the brilliant blue and white tunic and breeches of an Ylissean Courier, whirled, his face lighting up in recognition and relief as he moved to meet Robin halfway. 

“Lady Robin, this is for you!” he held out a rather travel-worn envelope made of rough sand-colored paper, hurriedly removing his cap and bowing. “I was told to give it only to you.” 

“Stop!” Tharja barked from behind, making Robin and the courier freeze in their transaction. “There is a hex on that letter, Robin.” 

Almost immediately, several guards surrounded the courier and formed a defensive wall around Robin, leveling their vicious silver spears at the poor man as he yelped and raised his hands. 

“Tharja, what are you talking about?!” Chrom had risen as well, his deep blue and white formal suit looking as if it would rip at the seams as he pulled Falchion from its scabbard. 

“It-it’s not harmful!” the poor courier spluttered, trembling in his travel-worn boots. “The client showed me that the hex was just meant to warp the letter back to him if I gave it to someone that wasn’t you!” 

“Let me take a look at it,” Tharja commanded, worming her way through the guards until she stood before the terrified courier. She held her hand out to him, making him flinch and pull the letter away. “I’m not going to touch it. I’m just seeing what type of hex it has.” 

She muttered incantations under her breath, and dark energies rippled from her fingers before brushing against the envelope. “Hmm, he’s telling the truth. The hex on this is designed to warp small objects across a great distance. It’s nothing dangerous.” 

“Where did you meet this client?” Robin asked as the guards relaxed their cordon and retook their positions around the dais. 

The courier exhaled, looking as if he were ready to melt as he wiped his face with his hat. “I, uh, met him when I was coming back from a delivery in the western wastes of Plegia.” 

“Oh, you were the one delivering to Councilor Jerod, weren’t you?” Robin hoped she’d said the Plegian’s name right, and the courier’s nod made her relax. “Well, did he accept the proposition we had?” 

“I already gave Lord Chrom his answer, with all due respect, and I just want to hand this off before the curse backfires or something,” the courier said, his voice a bit higher-pitched from stress. 

“It won’t,” Tharja said coolly. “Whoever made that hex knew what they were doing. Who was the client, and where did you meet him?” 

“Like I said earlier: he didn’t give me his name. He just asked me if I was a merchant and if I was going to Ylisse. Of course, after I told him I was a courier headed here, he was keen to get started. As for where he intercepted me, well...I didn’t want to run late on my return so I took a shortcut by the, uh, the Dragon’s Tail,” the courier sighed heavily, and the temperature dropped several degrees. 

“The Dragon’s Tail?” Chrom repeated. “You mean the road so close to a sacred Grimleal temple that people have gone missing in droves just getting near it?” 

The Dragon’s Tail...That path had a dark reputation, and it wasn’t too long ago that a village a few miles away from the Tail had been utterly destroyed. The survivors had reported monsters coming from the ruins and tearing everyone apart with claws, fangs, and flames, and a common theory was that it had been attacked by an aggressive flock of rogue wyverns. 

Wyverns that the Grimleal had raised and bastardized with dark rituals in the temple ruins that gave the Tail its name. 

“I thought that since the Grimleal have been all but destroyed, the path would be safer,” the courier explained after a heavy silence. “When I was traversing the desert, I was approached by the client: a man wearing a sand-colored cloak that almost made him blend into the dunes, and he asked me to carry a letter for him. Paid me well, too, after demonstrating the hex he put on it to ensure it was delivered to the right person.” 

“Was he a Grimleal?” Chrom asked the question that hung in everyone’s mind, his voice heavy with concern. 

The courier shook his head. “I asked him that, too, and his response made me feel sorry for whatever Grimleal what goes there trying to find sanctuary. He said ‘the servants of Grima are not welcome here. If any come, they will all die’.” 

“Well, why did he want you to deliver the letter instead of bringing it himself?” Sumia wondered. 

“W-well, Your Majesty, I asked him that, too, and he said that if he left, then the guardians of the ruins would follow him. That they were hunting him like they’d hunted others and he couldn’t leave,” the courier swallowed. “He said that something really bad had happened the last time the guardians tracked someone outside the ruins, and he wasn’t going to let it happen again.” 

The air was colder than the desert at night, and Robin found herself shivering as she tried to picture just what this was and how it was connected to her. 

“And this person claims he knew me before I became a Shepherd?” she asked softly. “Before Chrom found me in that field near Southtown?” 

“What?” Chrom spluttered as the courier nodded. “Take the damn letter, then! Read it!” 

“Chrom,” Sumia chided her husband, giving Robin an apologetic look. 

Robin nodded, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room upon her as she held her hand out for the letter. “May I have it, please?” 

“Yes, Lady Grandmaster!” the courier immediately pressed the rough envelope into her palm, a shudder of energy expelling from it the moment it touched her flesh. 

The courier stepped back, yelping as there was a pop of magical power in his hands. The guards again lowered their weapons at the poor man, only to halt at the sight of the heavy coinpurse sagging into his palms, clinking as he opened the drawstrings and peeked inside of it. 

“Oh! More gold!” he said in surprise. “That client’s pretty generous!” 

“The hex is gone,” Tharja reported. “Seems it was meant to dispel the moment it came into contact with Robin.” 

Robin nodded, her heart thundering in her chest as she popped the envelope open and unfolded it, a stab of hot pain going through her head at the sight of the handwriting etched upon its surface. She pushed through the needles and inhaled deeply, her voice filling the chamber as she read the contents aloud: 

_Robin, old friend,_

_Heard a few stories about what you’ve done since you left this place behind. Heard of battles fought and wars won under your guidance. Impressive feats, indeed, but I heard that you also lost your memories, forgot yourself, somewhere before all that started. Merchants brave enough to slip past the ruins had much to say about you, made me curious as to who you are now. How much you’ve changed from the Robin I knew._

_Heard you finally managed to get your revenge on your father for what he did to you and your mother, but how much of that do you even remember? How much of your past, the history that we share, is lost to you?_

_If you want answers, to know what happened before you left us behind, then come back to the Labyrinth. Come back to where it all began and where it all ended by your hands. Back to your home, one last time._

_I will be waiting for you, waiting to see if answers can be found. And a word of warning, out of respect to the one who once meant the world to me: if you come, be ready to face the_ _guardians_ _roaming the ruins. They will not make your journey an easy one._

_~M_

She was trembling, her breathing coming too quick, too heavy, as she stared at the handwriting that was so damn familiar yet so alien at the same time. Her throat was raw, her voice hoarse and eyes blurry with tears as she looked up at her friends. 

“I know this handwriting,” she croaked. “But...it hurts.” 

“Oh, Robin!” Sumia flowed off of her throne and swept the Grandmaster up into her arms. “You’re crying! What’s hurting?” 

“My head, like something’s trying to get out,” Robin croaked into the queen’s shoulder, taking a shuddering breath as she tried to calm herself. 

Why was this hurting so much? Why was this ‘M’ just now reaching out to her with these strange claims? What had she forgotten that he knew? 

“What is the Labyrinth that the letter mentions?” Chrom wondered, his strong hand clapping Robin’s shoulder. 

“I know of it,” Tharja said in a voice grim enough to cast a further pall upon the room. “You should, too. The Thabes Labyrinth.” 

“Wait, from the old Archanean stories?” Chrom coughed. “Where King Marth faced down the Fell Dragon and Gharnef?” 

Robin gently extricated herself from her friend, inhaling deeply as she looked over at Tharja. “I remember the legends about that place, but it was buried beneath the desert and nobody has found it again.” 

“Unless that was the place where the monsters were said to be coming from,” Tharja mused. “Nobody in the Grimleal was allowed to go to those ruins, because it was said that the place was a sacred ground for Grima and couldn’t be entered by mere mortals.” 

So much for the monster wyvern theory. If none of the Grimleal were allowed entry... 

“If the Grimleal were forbidden from going there, then it would have been the perfect place to build something right under their noses,” Robin murmured. “Did I...” 

Another spike of pain made her wince and clutch at her head. 

“Robin!” Sumia gripped her hands tightly. “Get Lissa up here, now!” 

“I’m okay,” Robin hissed through clenched teeth. “Perfectly oaky.” 

“Oaky?” someone whispered. 

“I dunno,” another voice muttered. 

“Okay, so who is going to go with Robin and I to explore this place?” Chrom asked, and even Robin looked up to raise an eyebrow at the Halidom’s newest Exalt. 

“Chrom, you aren’t coming,” Robin forced through the pounding of her head. “Ylisse needs you. Sumia needs you, as does your daughter.” 

“But-” 

“Do I need to get Frederick and Maribelle down here?” Robin demanded, noting how her friend’s face paled. “I will do it. I will get Frederick back to Ylisstol to make you stay.” 

“Okay, I’ll stay! I’ll stay!” Chrom spluttered, raising his hands in surrender. “I was really hoping to get away from this for a time...” 

He tugged at the tight collar of his deep blue dress shirt, fiddling with the pants at the same time. 

“You’re the Exalt, now, not just the prince or the captain of the Shepherds,” Sumia chided her husband. “You can’t go gallivanting off on random adventures anymore.” 

“Even if it’s Robin we’re adventuring for?” Chrom asked, giving his wife a hopeful look. 

She shook her head. “Even if it’s for Robin. The last two wars were a special case because everyone was threatened by Valm and the Grimleal, but we cannot spare you this time.” 

Chrom nodded begrudgingly. “But what about these guardians the letter mentioned?” 

“I’ll bring some of the Shepherds with me, if they can be spared,” Robin decided, mentally going through the roster. 

“Um, forgive me for eavesdropping, but I would be glad to be of service,” the future Lucina hesitantly interjected, stepping forward as all eyes fell on her. 

“I’m going, too, Mother!” Morgan was right there next to her, his face set into a determined expression. “The palace can spare me for a while!” 

He was still wearing Robin’s old coat from his time, faded with age and constant wear and tear from the battlefield. Chrom had taken the one from this time and had it remade into the Grandmaster coat Robin wore now, complete with added armor and much more elaborate details. 

“It suits your new title much better than that old thing,” he’d said back then when he’d presented it to Robin. “Don’t you think? It’s still your coat, but just made a little better!” 

“Yeah: you and your mother have done so much for us, and it’s time we stopped just throwing everything on your lap,” Chrom said with a sheepish grin. 

“I’ve finished for today, and I doubt Ylisstol will be destroyed if I leave administrative work to you and yours for a few days,” Robin sniffed, shaking her head. “I’ll ask around, see if anyone is willing and able to come with me. And I’ll have to procure supplies for a long-term expedition, since we don’t know how long we’re going to be in this labyrinth. How far away is the Dragon’s Tail from here, anyway?” 

“It took me about a week and a half to get here on foot, ma’am,” the courier spoke up. “I can mark down where I met the client and saw the ruins on a map.” 

“Please do,” Robin nodded to the man. “And thank you for bringing this here. I’m sorry for the trouble and the, um, the weapons being pointed at you.” 

The man bowed again. “It was terrifying, yes, but I was happy to be of service! It was an honor!” 

“Lucina, do you know if any of the other future children would be willing to come?” Robin asked the princess, who nodded. 

“I don’t know where Noire and Laurent are, and Gerome and Kjelle are still in Valm, but I should be able to track down some of the others,” she said. “I know Severa, Inigo, and Owain are still in Ylisse, somewhere. And Cynthia is here in the castle, of course.” 

“And Nah’s here, too!” Morgan piped up, much more excited about the prospect of his girlfriend coming with them than anyone else was. 

“What about Brady or Yarne?” Robin asked. 

“I think Brady’s in Themis with his parents, while Yarne is somewhere in Ferox with Panne and Lon’qu,” Sumia mused. “I’ve been trying to keep track of everyone, but it’s so difficult!” 

Robin kneaded her forehead. “Alright, I’ll start sending letters out, explaining the situation and asking for backup, and then I’ll need to get in contact with Anna for supplies for the expedition. Then I’ll have to requisition convoy wagons, horses, work out deals for weapons and armor...” 

“Robin, please, we can do that,” Chrom cut in. “I’m sure once we explain that you need help, people will come running.” 

“So long as they aren’t abandoning their jobs to do so,” Robin grumbled. 

Cordelia was the new Wing Commander of the pegasus corps after, all, and so many of the others had demanding jobs that kept them especially busy. It wouldn’t be fair to drag them away from those responsibilities and just have their work pile up in their absence. 

“Robin, please, you’re far more important than paperwork or training recruits,” Chrom scoffed. “If they can make time, they will make time.” 

“Says the Exalt who tried to ditch his responsibilities to go on an expedition to desert ruins supposedly guarded by fierce beasts,” Robin wagged a finger at him, making him flinch. 

“Alright, I get it,” Chrom sighed. “But we’ll take care of contacting everyone we can, alright? You just get your own affairs in order and be ready to go when the time comes.” 

Robin smiled gratefully at her closest friend. “Thank you, Chrom. I...I’m going to go lie down for a while. My head is pounding. Oh, and Tharja and Henry want to open a little curiosities store in the city. See if we can find room for that or a stall, okay?” 

“Huh? Oh, sure,” Chrom nodded. “I think there’s a couple places I can look at.” 

“And I’ll have to send up the reports and requests I finished so you can look at those,” Robin carefully tucked the letter into one of her pockets, inhaling slowly as another pulse of pain made her head spin. “And-” 

“Robin, go.” Sumia said firmly. “We’ll handle it.” 

Robin nearly bit her tongue to stop herself. “Y-yes, Your Majesty!” 

“C’mon, mom!” Morgan grabbed her hand with his, a boyish grin on his face. “Let’s take a break! We can talk about what we want to bring with us!” 

Robin smiled at her son, her heart warming with affection and the desire to destroy anyone who so much as looked at him wrong. Maybe the latter was some lingering influence from Grima, or maybe Robin wanted her son to live a life filled with happy memories from now on. 

“Lucina, would you care to join us for a walk around the grounds?” she looked over at the future princess, offering her a similar smile as she stubbornly abandoned her plans to lie down. 

They’d spent much time together throughout the Valm and Plegian campaigns, although Robin recalled how Lucina had first accused her of plotting to take her father from Sumia, which had honestly been the funniest thing Robin had ever heard. 

“I’m flattered that you think I’d be able to court your father, Lucina,” she’d once told the young woman. “But I’m married to Donnel. I love Chrom, yes, but not like that. He’s more so like a goofy, somewhat oblivious but good-hearted brother to me. I guess that makes you my niece, wouldn’t it?” 

They never really pursued the whole aunt/niece thing, since Robin had honestly just been joking about it, but she did truly think of Lucina as family just as much as she did Chrom and Sumia. 

“I would like to, but I promised Cynthia I’d join her for lance training in the grounds,” Lucina returned the smile with one of hers, the warmth in her eyes making Robin feel warm and fuzzy inside. 

She’d been smiling a lot more ever since Grima had died and Robin had returned from being, well, dead. So much tension had left the girl’s shoulders, even if she was constantly joining the raids to stamp out what little pockets remained of the Grimleal who hadn’t surrendered or been put to the sword. 

It had been surprisingly easy to explain to the other Ylissean noble houses about the future children, especially when the Voice of Naga, herself, was with the Shepherds to verify that the Divine Dragon had indeed sent these children back in time to save the world. Of course, Lucina’s Brand and her parallel Falchion had also dispelled any doubts and rumors, especially when the others were reminded that the child Lucina bore the same mark in her own eye. 

“Maybe another time, then,” Robin nodded. 

“I’d enjoy that,” Lucina bowed. “I’ll talk to you later, Auntie Robin!” 

Robin’s brain spluttered as she digested what she had just been called. “Auntie Robin?” 

Lucina giggled, actually giggled, and then turned before hurrying off. 

“I’m an aunt and I don’t even have any siblings,” Robin muttered. 

Chrom snorted behind her. “Try being a father to a pair of fully grown adult daughters at my age. I feel ancient.” 

Robin pointed at Morgan in silence, and Chrom rolled his eyes before sitting back on his throne. 

“Oh, just get going, Robin,” he grunted. “We have a lot to put together, and so do you. If we can get everything ready, we might be able to launch this expedition in a couple days.” 

“Just don’t let Anna, any of the Annas, swindle you, alright?” Robin nodded. “Contact me if any trouble comes up.” 

“Robin,” Sumia’s stern voice made her tongue curl up and die in her mouth. 

She was really getting this queen stuff down! Whatever training she was getting was doing wonders! 

“Fine, fine, I’ll go,” Robin bowed. “Your Majesty. Chrom.” 

“Hey!” 

Stifling her laugh, Robin tugged her son after her as they walked out into the hallway and left Tharja to talk to the royals about her shop. 

“That letter sounded really important,” Morgan said as he looked at her with admiration shining in his eyes. “And it was from someone who knew you before you met Chrom!” 

Said letter was dead weight in Robin’s pocket, far more than a slip of paper had any right to be, and she felt her hand unconsciously brushing against the rough parchment. 

“He said something about returning home, one last time,” she remembered. “Did I live at this Labyrinth with him before, somehow? Who was he to me, anyway?” 

The letter had also stated that she’d left ‘us’ behind. Who were these people? Robin’s stomach formed a pit as a stunning circumstance came to light: had the writer of this letter been her past husband or lover or something? Had she already had children and abandoned them to a temple supposedly overrun with vicious guardians? 

No... no, he had called her ‘old friend’ and she’d never had any sense that she’d been married before Donnel. He had to be something else, maybe similar to how Chrom was to her now. 

“Mother? You look really pale!” Morgan’s concerned face broke her out of her thoughts, out of the nauseating chills suddenly filling her. “I think you should lay down, after all. Come on, I’ll take you to your room!” 

“Y-yes, I think that would be best,” she croaked, cursing how hoarse she sounded. 

Her heartbeat was pounding her head, filling her ears with the sound of her own thundering pulse. 

She had Morgan, and nothing would happen to him. She wouldn’t allow it. 

“I haven’t seen Father yet today,” Morgan chattered as he led Robin through the haze that had become the castle corridors. “Have you? I think he was supposed to train with the scouts or something.” 

Donnel. She would have to speak to him, let him know what was happening. 

“No, sweetie, I haven’t,” she sighed, shaking her head and immediately regretting it as the world spun in response. “Ack!” 

“I’ll look for him while you rest!” Morgan declared. 

Good. 

Robin would have nodded if the world wasn’t spinning, so she just remained silent and trusted Morgan to not lead her into a wall or desk or one of the many decorations filling the castle halls. 

After some time, she recognized her own chambers in the haze as Morgan opened a door, sighing heavily as her son led her to hers and Donnel’s room. 

“Here we are, Mother! Get some rest, okay?” Morgan’s voice was markedly softer, and Robin briefly wondered if she was losing consciousness before she fell back on the cushy surface of heaven, itself. 

“Mm’kay,” was all she could slur out before the softness enveloped her and dragged her willingly to dark sleep. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Two days was all it had taken for the hired convoy of wagons to be loaded with supplies meant to aid in traversing the harsh desert that would await the expedition, and Robin had to admit that she was quite impressed with how quickly everything had been set up. By Chrom, no less. 

She hadn’t been able to contact Donnel, however, but Sumia promised to tell him what was happening. 

“Everyone’s here, Mother!” Morgan declared, bounding forward and gesturing with his arm at the Shepherds who had volunteered for this expedition. 

Robin did a quick look over the faces, pleasantly surprised to see that so many had come. Sully and Stahl were prepping their horses while Vaike was joking with Ricken about something that made the boy’s face turn beet red. Henry and Tharja were both, surprisingly, seated on one of the wagons, murmuring quietly to one another while Tharja jabbed a finger at the open tome on her lap. 

Lucina was trying to calm her sister as the latter bounced back and forth on her feet, her eyes sparkling with the promise of a new adventure and new heroics. A movement from the corner of Robin’s eye made her glance over to see a suit of armor moving on its...wait, that’s Kellam. She made a mental note to keep an eye on him to make sure he wasn’t left behind, although the presence of his wife, Nowi, would probably make that a little easier. 

As if to prove the point, the childish manakete barreled over to her husband and climbed on his shoulders with a triumphant laugh, drawing shocked looks from several of the onlookers as they attempted to process what probably looked like a flying child. Robin chuckled at the sight and at how Nah was smacking her forehead from a nearby wagon before giving Morgan a pleading look for help. 

“Shepherds!” Robin called, and her friends turned to her almost in perfect unison, faces lighting up. “Gather around!” 

“Hey, Rob!” Vaike grinned at her and pounded her shoulder with a heavy hand, making her stumble before she caught herself. “Whatever comes our way, just let good ol’ Teach handle it, eh?” 

“Like you ‘handle’ everything else?” Lissa appeared from behind a wagon, her face set into a scowl. “Where’s your axe?” 

Vaike balked and looked around, eyes wide with panic. “Oi! I just had it! I swear!” 

“Good job, dumbass,” Sully drawled as she and her husband jostled for space in the gathering crowd. 

“No need to be so rude, Sully,” Stahl rubbed his stomach as it growled. “Man...I’m still hungry.” 

“You’re always hungry,” Ricken pointed out. “Or eating.” 

“Yeah! It makes me want to challenge you to an eating competition!” Nowi declared, still defying gravity...er, riding on Kellam’s shoulders. 

Stahl laughed and sheepishly rubbed the back of his tussled hair. “You’d probably win that, Nowi. I’m no match for you.” 

“This is everyone we could gather, Aunt Robin,” Lucina stepped forward, and Robin couldn’t stop the smile that curved her lips at the title. “Miriel wanted to join us as well, but she was needed here.” 

“So I’m going, instead!” Ricken declared, pumping his fists with excitement. “She wants me to take as many notes as I can for her!” 

“I think that’s a good idea,” Kellam nodded, making Nowi sway on his shoulders. “...Hello? Can anyone hear me?” 

“I can hear you, Kellam,” Robin said, making the man sag in relief and nearly dump his diminutive wife on the ground. 

“Hey, Kelly, stop moving so much!” the manakete complained. 

“Oh, yeah, Kellam’s here,” Vaike muttered, still suffering from Lissa’s stink eye. “Thought the shrimp was doing manakete magic or something.” 

“Alright, let’s do this!” Cynthia declared, lifting one arm up in a pose she probably thought was daring and heroic. “I can’t wait to use some of my heroic entries!” 

“I don’t think we’re going to be fighting much, but we don’t know what those guardians are,” Lucina frowned. 

“I hope it’s something terrifying!” Henry cackled after his rambunctious declaration, making Tharja roll her eyes. 

“Settle down, settle down!” Robin clapped, and her friends fell silent, eyes boring into her. “Thank you all for coming on such short notice. I...I cannot even begin to express what your support means to me, especially since we’re apparently chasing someone from before I met any of you.” 

“That’s what Chrom told us,” Sully nodded, placing her hands on her waist. “Said this ‘M’ person sent you a letter telling you to return to your old home or something like that.” 

“What kinda name is ‘M’, anyway?” Nowi asked as she peered down at everyone. “It sounds stupid!” 

“Says the one who thought my name was genius,” Nah muttered, and her mother stuck her tongue out at her. 

“’M’ is probably short for something else,” Morgan pointed out. “Maybe we’ll learn his real name when we get there.” 

“We’re going to Plegia, right? Somewhere out in the western desert?” Lissa piped up, frowning at her dress and the cage skirt she wore. “Maybe I should have dressed lighter.” 

Tharja nodded. “Yes. That’s where the Dragon’s Tail is located, along with the ruins the messenger said he saw.” 

“Why is it called the ‘Dragon’s Tail’, anyway?” Vaike wondered. 

“Because it’s where the tail bones for the effigy surrounding the capital were said to be found,” Robin answered him, getting everyone’s attention. “Or something of that sort. I’ve been reading up on the Tail and the ruins, but I’ve found little aside from dire warnings to stay away from both. Apparently, fierce monsters that roam the desert around the temple at night, but nobody has seen one and lived.” 

“Oooh, dangerous monsters!” Henry clapped. “I can’t wait to hex them! Maybe I’ll make their insides rot, or-” 

“Spare us the details, Henry, please,” Robin pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled slowly. “In any likelihood, the guardians M warned us about are likely going to be those very same monsters, or something similar to monsters, so we’ll have to exercise extreme caution when we start getting close. Our objective is to gather information, of course, and if these monsters prove to be too dangerous, we are getting out of there immediately.” 

“But, why would we leave before we help you find out everything about this place?” Ricken asked. “We can handle a few monster guardians! They’re probably just Risen or something!” 

Robin shrugged. “We don’t know, and I don’t want anyone getting seriously hurt because of me. We get in, find what we can and what M wants, and if the guardians prove to be too much, we get the hells out of there.” 

She wasn’t going to lose a single one of them to monsters, even if it meant that she would lose the only chance she had to uncover parts of her past. Her friends were far more important. 

“If you say so,” Sully nodded. “I’ll kick their asses, though, whatever they are!” 

Robin smiled. “I don’t doubt it. Is everyone ready to go?” 

Nods all around. 

“Right! Everyone on the wagons, then! It’s going to be a long ride!” she called. 

“Yeah, let’s do this!” Vaike laughed. “For good ol’ Robin!” 

“For Robin!” the others added their voices to the chorus, even Tharja. 

“You guys...” Robin shook her head, blinking away the warmth pooling in her eyes as heat flushed her cheeks. “Thank you, all of you.” 

The group split to cluster onto the wagons while Sully and Stahl swung up onto their mounts, chattering among themselves. Robin climbed into the lead wagon, Morgan and Nah joining her alongside Henry and Tharja, wood creaking while the vehicle bore their combined weight. 

“Are you excited, Mother?” Morgan asked as Robin tried to make herself comfortable on the wooden bench, armor plates digging into her shoulders and abdomen. “We’re finally going to see if we can learn something about your past!” 

Was she? Did she want to know this? 

Robin nodded, her heart pounding with anticipation even as a colder fear and uncertainty tricked through her. 

Why was she having such a bad feeling about this? 

“It’ll be okay, Mom,” she must have been making a face or something, because Morgan gripped her hand. “We’re all with you. We’ll get through whatever comes our way, just like we always do.” 

Robin nodded again, some of her unease unspooling from her guts. “Right. Thank you, Morgan.” 

She tugged him towards her, squeezing her lovable son as he laughed and did the same. 

Yeah, maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad, after all! 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Miles and miles away from Ylisstol, the unforgiving sun beat down mercilessly on the eastern edges of the Plegian desert, making the sea of sand and rocks shimmer in the heat. Dark stone ruins loomed above the wasteland: a tower-like structure seeming to suck in all the light that fell upon it. 

A lone figure sat on one of the upper levels of the structure, sheltered in a niche that had been gouged out of a wall by a fallen pillar. He’d sat here before, many times over the years, ever keeping an eye on the horizon. 

Once, long ago, he’d been watching for Grimleal, for threats to the people that he’d brought here. People that Robin had brought here. 

Now, this place served as a temporary respite, a way to momentarily escape the guardians that hunted him without cease. Allowed him to breathe the heavy, sand-choked air of the desert. 

The courier had done as promised, and he’d given the man a bonus as thanks for making the journey. Not that he needed the gold that lay in the temple or the sands: currency was meaningless when one spent all his time surviving in a desert ruin. 

“Robin, old friend,” it hurt to speak, as always, to endure this reminder of what had been done to him. “Will you come? Will you seek what you have forgotten?” 

Something shuffled in the ruins beneath him: a heavy foot stomping, followed by the snorting of a hungry beast tasting the air with its keen nose. 

The figure rose and retrieved his spear, his cloak blending into the surrounding stone as the magic-heavy material swayed around his body, then pulled his cowl up and lifted the cloth mask over his mouth. No point in pondering any further. Robin would come: he knew she would. 

She could never resist a mystery, especially if it concerned her. Not in her nature to let answers remain out of reach. 

His hand tightened on the spear’s well-worn haft, the frayed leather and faded wood rubbing against his callused palm, craning his head as another animalistic snort filled the air, followed shortly by a low groan. 

“You will come,” he murmured, turning back to the ruins. “And then, I will make you answer for what happened here.” 

Time was up: could hear the guardian shuffling through the ancient chambers somewhere below. He’d waited for a long time for this, but he could wait a short time longer. 

Just a little longer... 


	2. Homecoming

They were here, after a week of endless travel. Robin had been surprised by their swift progress at first, but then she remembered that those who would have sunk to banditry had mostly been dealt with after the war’s end. Many Ylisseans had lost their lives in both wars with Plegia, leaving scores of open positions in jobs that desperately needed bodies to fill them. Such an abundance of need left people with more opportunities than they would have seen otherwise, and Robin would have been happy about it if the circumstances hadn’t been caused by so much death and destruction. 

“Is this the place?” Morgan peered through the shimmering desert heat, sticking his tongue out in concentration as he squinted to better focus on the distant structures looming over the sands 

“Doesn’t look like a Dragon’s Tail to me,” Vaike grunted, hefting his axe up to his shoulder and scowling at it. 

“It’s named after that giant effigy surrounding Plegia’s capitol, remember?” Ricken spoke up, the poor boy looking miserable in his flowing mage robes and thick hat. 

His face was red from the heat, even under his wide-brimmed hat, and sweat was already darkening his clothes in several places. Vaike, on the other hand, looked quite comfortable, given his lack of anything on his torso aside from a leather pad on his shoulder. Robin, as usual, was strangely immune to the heat, even in her heavy Grandmaster robes, and she chalked it up to her Plegian heritage. 

“This is the place,” Tharja confirmed, narrowing her eyes at the towering structure. “The Thabes Labyrinth.” 

Robin turned to look at their destination, wincing as her stiff legs creaked and groaned beneath her. From what she could tell, there was a rather wide tower piercing the sky, with a smaller, boxlike temple squatting beside it. In front of the structure were smaller buildings scattered about with no apparent rhyme or reason, and Robin could almost imagine that a sort of village or hamlet had been constructed before it. 

And yet...as she stared at the temple, at the entrance to this Labyrinth of old, a tsunami of nostalgia crashed upon her. She’d been here before, many times, and this place had clearly been important to her. She had to resist the urge to cry with relief, and yet there was something else tugging at her heart. 

Something that made a chill run up her spine despite the oppressive heat. 

“What do you feel when you look at it?” Tharja asked, her eyes boring into Robin. 

“Like I’ve been here before,” she croaked in response, swallowing to try to get some moisture back into her throat. “Like...like I’m coming home.” 

“It does look like there was a settlement built in front of it,” Morgan mused. “Maybe we should ask Cynthia to get a closer look at it?” 

“No,” Robin shook her head. “M warned us about guardians, remember? I don’t want anyone approaching the place alone in case this is a trap.” 

“Yes, we should advance cautiously,” Lucina nodded as the others finished arming themselves from the convoy’s wagons. 

“Robin!” Nah hurried towards her, holding a jagged Levin Sword and a pair of tomes in her hands. 

Robin smiled and accepted the weapons, buckling the sword to her waist and the stowing the tomes into specially made pockets in her jacket. “Thank you, Nah! I appreciate it.” 

The manakete smiled and nodded. “I’m just happy to be of help!” 

“You definitely are,” Robin resisted the urge to pat her on the head and looked over her assembled forces. “Alright, everyone: stay together and keep your eyes on the sand! I don’t know if anything is hiding beneath the surface!” 

“Aw, c’mon, Robin!” Nowi griped from where she was again riding Kellam’s shoulders. “If there are any nasties or creeps here, we’ll take care of them! I’ll do my fiercest dragon rawr!” 

“Fantastic, mother,” Nah muttered. 

The somewhat stable silence was broken by an agitated whinny, drawing all eyes to where Sully, Stahl, and Cynthia were all wrestling with their mounts as the beasts reared back and bayed. 

“C’mon, it’s okay!” Stahl was trying to tug the reins of his horse, but the beast was refusing to obey him, jerking wildly and nearly throwing his rider to the ground. 

Even Sully’s vicious murder-horse was standing stock still, shaking its head to keep its master from urging it forward. “Argh! Get moving, you stubborn hunk of-” 

“Come on, please?” Cynthia was patting her mare’s side, doing her best wounded puppy impersonation as the graceful creature shook its head and whickered nervously. “I can’t do my heroic entrances without you!” 

“Strange,” Robin frowned as the animals continued refusing to get any closer to the ruins. “They were fine a few minutes ago. What is it that’s spooking them?” 

She scanned their surroundings, but there was no other life to be seen. 

“You can’t feel it?” Tharja frowned at her. “The dark aura radiating from the Labyrinth?” 

Dark aura? 

“Yeah, nya ha ha!” Henry nodded. “It’s terrifying! Like staring into a dragon’s mouth!” 

“Why’re we talkin’ about dragon mouths? I thought it was a tail?” Vaike stared at them in confusion, oblivious to Lissa smacking her forehead behind him. 

“Are you even paying attention?” Sully glared at the warrior, who gave a sheepish grin in response. 

“Of course Teach is payin’ attention! I just, uh, forgot what I was listening to, is all!” 

Robin snorted. “Okay, okay, let’s just focus on getting there! Leave the mounts behind for the moment, alright! Kellam: you’re in front with Ricken! Both of you keep your eyes peeled for any traps and keep each other covered! We’ll follow behind you!” 

“Me too!” Nowi insisted, patting the top of her husband’s head. 

“Fine, you too,” Robin nodded. “Alright, let’s go!” 

Kellam trudged forward, armor clanking while Nowi continued riding upon his shoulders. Ricken glided along in his wake, gusts of wind magic circling around the trio to keep them above the greedy clutches of the sand. 

Robin led the others after them, reaching into her robes and gripping her Rexcalibur tome’s spine, ready to whip it out and blast whatever popped up from the sands. Her boots glided upon the upper surface of the desert, although each step she took made that pressing nostalgia grow even stronger within her. 

What was this place? When had it been a home for her? Who was this M who had called her back here? 

Well, there was nothing to it but to slowly close the distance between them and the mysteries of the Thabes Labyrinth. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

She had come. She, and those who had fought beneath her command. These Shepherds...this was only a small number of them, but he could feel the strength radiating from them. These warriors were hardened veterans. Maybe they would able to stand against the guardians. 

The man named M watched in silence as the intruders combed their way forward across the desert, a floating child and a mage in ridiculous robes leading the way. He scanned their ranks, and his heart lurched in his chest at the familiar sight of shock-white hair, tied into a simple pair of short twintails. 

“There you are,” he whispered with his ruined voice, absently reaching up to touch his scarred throat. “Found your way home, old friend. Came seeking answers, as I knew you would.” 

He pushed himself to stand from the ruined roof he had been taking shelter on, watching the horizon as he’d always done. Watched the sun rise and die endlessly, counting each cycle to keep track of the days. 

Now, Robin had come to once again bring change to this place, to make another mark upon what was buried in the sands. And what had been built by her and those she’d brought here. 

M looked around at the ruins of his former home: houses built from stone taken from the labyrinth and lumber brought here with painstaking secrecy. They weren’t the best-looking homes, but they had provided sturdy shelter from the elements, and shielded those within from the harsh, unforgiving desert. 

Too bad they hadn’t provided much safety from the guardians. 

He looked at the nearest house, which had been caved in from a heavy body and bore scorch marks from flames upon its collapsed frame. That had been Daniel’s house, his and his wife, Mareeta. 

At least their deaths had been quick. It was disheartening whenever he saw someone he knew walking around in the depths of the labyrinth, those disturbing masks affixed to their faces. 

He could take solace, however, in knowing that he hadn’t seen Lacey in a while. Was she still lingering by one of Robin’s offices, combing through the vestiges of her former life and duty? 

“Kellam, slow down!” a young man’s voice complained on the wind, and M looked up to see that the Shepherds had gotten much closer to the ruins. 

He could almost make out individual faces among them, including...there was a shimmer in the desert beneath the floating girl, looked like a figure covered in heavy armor, leaving great footprints in the sands. 

Invisibility? Or did that man’s armor use magic to blend into its surroundings like the cloak that M wore? Intriguing. 

“Hey, Robin! I think it’s safe!” the mage called back to the following group. “Nowi isn’t sensing anything and I don’t see any guardians yet!” 

“Phooey! I wanted to blast some baddies!” the girl with bright green hair complained, balancing on the invisible knight’s shoulders. 

Robin strode forward, seemingly unbothered by the heat despite the heavy reflection of her favorite jacket that flowed around her. It had armored plating on it in several places, along with heavier thread to make it more durable, he guessed. Her eyes roamed over the ruins, and a spark went through M’s spine as they glided across his hidden form. 

She looked...normal, as if what had happened here hadn’t affected her at all. But he had known that face before, had seen what had truly been hiding beneath it when everything went to hell. 

“Looks like something hit this place hard,” she commented, frowning at the ruins splaying out before them. “I see scorching, claw marks, and what looks like blast marks from spells.” 

“I’ll say,” the blue-haired girl on her left carried herself like a warrior, and M frowned at the divine blade that was buckled to her waist. “This reminds me of scenes from the future: of villages razed by Grima and his hordes.” 

Interesting...so this was one of the time-walkers, sent back by the Divine Dragon, Herself. If the guardians were vicious before, the presence of this one would drive them insane. 

“Everyone stay close!” Robin called, passing by the invisible knight to stride towards the ruins, her eyes again passing over where M was hiding. 

He gripped his spear tightly, the wood digging into his gloved palm and the nascent electricity it projected crackling in response to his agitation. He watched her approach, closer and closer to the ruins of her past, and his heart leaped into his throat as a scabby, emaciated hand burst from the sands and wrapped gnarled, dead fingers around Robin’s ankle. 

“Ambush!” she yelled, fumbling for something inside of her robes, but M reacted far quicker than he thought possible. 

He lifted his spear and aimed its jagged head at the hand, unleashing a bolt of lightning magic that lanced into the dead one with a blinding flash. The limb shattered in a spray of bone fragments and bloodless chunks of flesh, and Robin leaped backwards while pulling a crackling Levin Sword from the folds of her cloak. 

The rest of the dead one clawed its way out from the sands, the ancient and rotted flesh tight across brittle bones kept intact only by whatever dark magic gave it form. Whatever it had worn once was now just tattered threads, so frayed that a simple breeze could likely turn it to dust. 

“Risen!” one of the other Shepherds yelled, right as the boy mage sliced the walking corpse in half with a blade of wind. 

The creature’s neatly cut carcass slumped to the sands, and it wouldn’t take long for the desert to swallow it up. 

“Who was that?” Robin was looking at the ruins, looking for him. “M? Is that you?” 

Well, he’d already revealed himself, and someone had to have seen where his attack had come from. 

“Are you okay?!” M paused as a young man with curly brown hair ran forward, dressed in Robin’s old jacket and holding a fire tome. 

Her apprentice, maybe? 

“He’s up there,” a black-haired woman in rather revealing mage’s garb suited for the desert pointed up at where M was hiding. “I saw him moving.” 

“M?” Robin called out again, so close and yet so far to his real name. 

No point in hiding. He stepped forward out of the ruins, willing the magic of his cloak to dispel as he entered the sunlight. 

“Oh! Oh! I see him!” the green-haired girl, Nowi, called, pointing at M as she jumped up and down on the invisible knight’s shoulders. “I see him!” 

“Yes, mother, we can all see him,” a smaller girl with brown hair, clad in a white and red dress, sighed, rubbing her forehead. 

Mother? How in the hell...oh, those ears! They were dragonkind. Manaketes, if he remembered the terminology correctly. 

“Robin,” he called over as much as his ruined voice would allow, not missing how her eyes widened-in either recognition or surprise, he didn’t know- or how she held a hand up to her head. “So, you came.” 

She nodded, though her eyes never once left him, seeking his face beneath his mask and cowl. “I did. Who are you? How did you know me? Why...why do I feel so much longing and horror when I look at this place?” 

“Longing...suppose you still feel something for this place, for your old home,” his throat was burning, but he pushed through the pain. “We built this village, you and I: a sanctuary for those fleeing the Grimleal.” 

“We built this place?” Robin looked around at the ruined houses, the piles of rubble. “To protect people from the Grimleal. Tharja, you said that this temple was forbidden to the members of the Grimleal, right?” 

The black-haired mage nodded. “Nobody was allowed in this place, not even your father.” 

“A perfect place to hide: right under their noses,” Robin murmured, lifting her eyes back to M. “How did we meet? Why did we come here?” 

“I lived alone in a village far from here, and the Grimleal came to take live offerings for their mad god. I was chosen and hauled off with others, but we came under attack en route,” he could remember every detail even now: the flashes; the screams. “The guards and the Grimleal were struck down by quick bursts of magic, and then you appeared. You cut the lock on the cage and set us free, told us to run back to the village as fast as we could.” 

Robin stared at him, holding her head with a rather tight expression on her face, as if trying to force something forward. “I...I don’t...” 

“I had nowhere to go, asked you why you were fighting to save people like me,” M continued, letting his words convey the truth for him. “You said that the Grimleal needed to be bloodied, needed to be stopped. That you fought them to stop their terrible deeds. I asked to come with you, to help you help others. You agreed, and we traveled together, painting the deserts red with the blood of the Grimleal wherever we went.” 

“Eventually, those we rescued started to follow us, slowed us down in our travels. We couldn’t care for them, could barely find enough for the two of us to eat and neither of us were skilled with healing,” the pain in his throat was almost too much to bear, too hard to fight through. Would have to end this quickly so he could recover. “And then one day, you started hearing a voice, promising you a way to strike down your father, find the power you wanted.” 

“Strike down my father?” Robin winced. “Why...” 

“Your hatred for the Grimleal was personal. Throughout all the time I have known you, your drive was to bloody the Grimleal’s operations and force your father to make an appearance to his faithful. Then, you would put an end to things between you once and for all,” M shook his head, remembering her anger. “But he never came forth, no matter how many we killed.” 

“So, you and Robin were killing Grimleal all over Plegia and disrupting their operations in an attempt to get Validar out of hiding, but he never showed. All the while, you were gathering followers from the people you’d rescued and needed a place for them,” the Exalted girl with Falchion summarized. “And somewhere along the way, Robin started hearing a voice? How long ago was this?” 

“Five or six years, maybe? Hard to tell,” he shrugged. “We were here for almost two years before this all ended.” 

The burning was almost unbearable. Every word was fire against his throat, turning his tongue to ash. 

“What happened here? What was that voice I was hearing?” Robin asked. “Who was I back then?” 

“Who you were, who you became...can’t answer that, not yet,” M shook his head. 

She seemed ‘normal’, but was this truly Robin? He’d believed that he’d known her once, only for all he knew to be turned upon the sands and set ablaze. Had to see for himself if she had ever actually been that person that he had traveled with, or if it had all been an act. 

“What?! What’s your game, asshole?!” the red female knight stomped forward, brandishing a shiny silver lance. “We came here for answers!” 

“Sully!” her green-armored companion stammered, lifting his hands to placate her. 

“Need to see who you are,” M shook his head. “Thought I knew before, but realized I was wrong. You want answers, comb the ruins, delve into the Labyrinth.” 

“Wait!” Robin cried, the desperation in her voice making his heart lurch. “You act as if I had betrayed you before, as if...I was the one responsible for the destruction here. What happened?” 

Had to see just who this woman was. Couldn’t make the mistake of blindly trusting her again just to have it all turn to dust at her touch as it had before. 

“You left journals behind in your old offices,” M said instead of the burning demands that seared his tongue. “Find them, might jog your memory in ways I can’t.” 

If she could read them, anyway. 

“What the hell is the big idea?!” Sully demanded. “Do you really expect us to trudge through monster infested ruins on some bullshit scavenger hunt?! Let’s get out of here, Robin.” 

Robin gave the knight a dry glare. “Sully, I didn’t bring everyone out for over week just to get here and leave. We’re getting answers.” 

“Can’t leave even if you wanted to,” M warned, almost flinching when all of them glared at him. “The guardians here will have your scent. Yours, Robin, and the girl bearing Naga’s blood. If you leave, they will follow until they find you. Tore apart this place and another village not too far away from here hunting their prey. Won’t stop until they track you down.” 

“You mean the Risen?” Robin’s apprentice asked. “That one back there looked really old, and it didn’t turn into smoke after we killed it! Uh, killed it again, I guess?” 

“More than that lurk within the depths. Things much stronger, much more powerful, than a walking corpse about to turn to dust,” his voice was about to give out, and the seething agony from his throat was making dark spots dance before his eyes. “Only path you have now is forward, and below. Save your strength for what is to come.” 

Even after a couple years, his throat hadn’t fully healed, probably an aftereffect of what Robin had done to him. The dark magic that had seared into his flesh from her hand closing around his throat. 

The memory came once again: the darkness of the lowest level, Robin standing over him with her hand an iron vice around his throat. 

“You were useful, for a worm writhing in the dirt,” her rippling, almost growling voice pierced his ears even now as he moved into the shadows of the ruins, letting his cloak hide him once again. “Tell you what: I’ll spare you, let my pets play with you, instead.” 

Her red eyes leered at him, her lips curled into a cruel smile while faint tongues of purple fire flickered around her. 

M shook his head to clear the memory, to chase away the past and return it with the present. He would watch them go through the ruins, watch Robin deal with her ghosts. See who she really was underneath that mask. 

And if this was all a lie, an act, then he would put an end to this once and for all. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

“Well, he’s gone,” Morgan frowned, and Robin winced as another pulse of pain wracked her skull. “Mother?! Are you alright?” 

M was telling the truth, or part of it. Parts of her that she had forgotten could hear it in his voice, even if that voice sounded so wrong despite being so familiar. It was as if sand was rasping forth from his throat, rattling upwards from a Risen’s maw. As if someone had given the desert a voice. 

“Fine, I am fine,” Robin shook her head, horror filling her very soul as her gaze roamed over the ruined buildings. 

Her mind was reeling with overwhelming familiarity along with everything that M had said, and her thoughts were screaming in her head, beating each other senseless while burning the whole place down. 

“You sure? You look pale and kinda clammy,” Lissa frowned at her, putting a hand on Robin’s forehead. “You’re burning up!” 

“I’m fine, just need to collect my thoughts,” Robin shook her head again, then exhaled slowly. 

“What do you want to do, Auntie?” Lucina asked softly, and it took Robin a moment to realize that the girl was addressing her. 

Auntie...it was still so strange to be called that even after a couple weeks! 

“We go into the Labyrinth,” Robin answered. “If M was telling the truth, and I can feel it in my very bones that he was, then we have no choice but to go move forward. If we leave...who knows what’s going to follow us?” 

“He said there were worse things than this in there,” Vaike was nudging the ancient, desiccated corpse that Ricken had split in half. “I ain’t good with math, but this guy looks old.” 

“Very old,” Ricken agreed as he, too, examined the corpse. “It looks like the only thing holding it together was dark magic. I mean, this guy is ancient!” 

“How ancient?” Robin frowned at the wizened, dried out flesh of the creature, a shudder going up her spine as she recalled its scabby, lifeless grasp closing around her ankle. 

Ricken frowned at the carcass, studying its bisected torso. “Well...this may be a bit crazy, but I think this guy may have been around for a thousand years or two. Maybe longer.” 

“I agree!” Henry was playing, actually _playing_ , with the remains of its hand, flipping a gnarled, dried-out finger back and forth between his palms. “Nya ha ha! The curses keeping him moving were older than old!” 

Tharja sighed from where she, too, was examining the remains. “He’s right: whatever magic was animating this corpse was beyond ancient. Given Ricken’s guess, I’d hazard that this corpse may have come from the time when Marth faced Grima. Maybe earlier.” 

“That old?!” Stahl yelped. “What else could we find down there?” 

“No point in wondering! Let’s go find out!” Cynthia declared, with Nowi nodding enthusiastically. “Let’s go, go, go!” 

“Patience, Cynthia,” her sister chided, gripping her shoulder while looking like she was fighting a smile. “We mustn’t just run in blindly.” 

Robin nodded in approval. “You’re both right, in a sense: we must be careful but decisive. We should gather some supplies from the wagons and make use of these ruins for shelter. There’s no telling how long we’ll be here.” 

Well, what was left of the ruins, anyway. 

“Right! C’mon, Ricken!” Lissa grabbed the boy and started dragging him back in the direction of the convoy. 

“L-Lissa! You don’t have to drag me!” 

“Hey, I’ll come, too!” Kellam hurried after them. “C-can anyone hear me?” 

“I can hear you, father!” Nah called, at which Kellam turned back and waved at her. “I love you!” 

“I love you, too, Nah!” 

Robin smiled at herself and looked back at the long tower and the temple squatting beside it. 

“What is it that’s hiding here?” she murmured, holding a hand over her aching heart. “What did I do?” 

Did she even want to know? What if being in this place stirred parts of her that were better off forgotten? Parts that were closer to Grima than she ever thought she would be? 

She shook her head and sighed, remembering M’s ominous warning. “Can’t walk away now, not unless we want guardians worse than millennia old Risen coming after us. Things strong enough to raze entire villages to the ground.” 

They had passed by the other village M had spoken of: a congregation of smashed houses and shops, shredded defensive walls, and an utterly destroyed central hall that had been reduced to piles of charred rubble and splinters. 

Nobody had wanted to explore it, to see what could be found in the wreckage. There was an air hanging around the ruins, something dark and oppressive that felt eerily familiar. 

Robin could see why people had blamed rabid Grimleal wyverns for the destruction: the flames and claw marks she could make out on the outer walls made it too easy to mark the scaly beasts as being responsible for the slaughter, though something in Robin told her that they weren’t the culprits. That, and M had said that the guardians of the Labyrinth had followed someone there, destroyed the village while trying to catch their prey. 

“Auntie Robin? Are you okay?” Lucina strode up, concern written upon her face. 

Robin gave her a halfhearted smile. “Not really, but I can’t falter now. We have to find out what happened here and what these guardians are.” 

And whether or not Robin had been responsible for all of this death, all of this destruction. 

Lucina reached out and squeezed her hand, a gentle smile on her lips. “It will be fine. We’ll figure this out together.” 

“But what if I’m the reason all of this happened?” Robin asked, her voice raw. “What if...I remember who I used to be and it’s not who I thought I was?” 

“Robin, that doesn’t matter, not anymore,” Lucina shook her head vehemently. “Whoever you were back then doesn’t change who you are right now. We know who you are, Auntie. We know, and so do you. You’re brave, intelligent, and have the kindest heart I have ever seen. I’ve followed you through war and through peace and I will follow you through whatever awaits us here.” 

Tears stung Robin’s eyes as she smiled at the young princess before pulling her into a tight hug. “Thank you, Lucy.” 

Lucina squeaked a bit but soon returned the hug with vigor, holding Robin tightly to her. “We’re all with you. Whatever we find in that Labyrinth will not change how we see you.” 

Coming from the girl who had once drawn Falchion against Robin over a year ago...those words made the weight on her heart lighten significantly. 

The two women pulled apart, and Robin wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. “Right. Let’s start getting everyone ready, shall we?” 

Lucina smiled at her, the Brand in her left eye flashing blue just for a brief moment. “Let’s!” 

They would need all the hands they could get in bringing back supplies, after all. 


End file.
